DragonLight (31 page)

Kale continued. “We’ve always assumed that his voices were kimens that Wulder assigned to protect him. But if that is so, where are they? Do they still follow him? Did they lose their light clothing? Did they have special light clothing that makes them invisible?”

Bardon held up a hand. “Whoa! I don’t know the answers to any of those questions. But I assume the voices still guard and direct him. How else could he find his way in the world as he does?”

Kale watched the game. Now Toopka was the blind man, complete with a blindfold. She approached Sittiponder’s back. He deftly stepped aside, and Toopka walked right past him.

Kale tsked. “I saw no kimen warn him that Toopka was about to catch him.”

“Neither did I,” said Bardon, rising to his feet. “But this is a mystery for another time. We should be off.”

They mounted their dragon steeds and took flight as soon as possible. Kale decided the kimens were not likely to get cold, since they were in constant motion.

As they flew over an open plain, they saw a group of black mounds.

What are those?
asked Kale.

“Let’s fly lower and see.”

Dead animals?
asked Kale, when they were close enough to see better.

“Dead tundra wolves. Looks like the pack attacked someone or something and didn’t survive.”

Regidor and Gilda?

“I think so.”

The next day they flew over more corpses. A bear at one spot, a large predator cat in another, and three giant boars. Carrion birds picked at the exposed flesh. That night Bardon made sure enough guards were posted throughout the night, and Kale set up a perimeter alarm to ward off prowling beasts.

A mist greeted them in the morning, but the sun burned it off. From the air, they spotted more carcasses. At noonmeal, Bardon and Kale speculated why the animals had attacked.

“It looks like every time Regidor and Gilda landed, they encountered hostile creatures, normal creatures that belong on the plains,” Bardon said.

“But surely it isn’t normal for them to attack.”

“What did Filia say when you asked her?”

“She has little material in that librarylike memory of hers that would shed light on this.” Kale drank the rest of her water.

“I heard Mikkai telling the others that we are almost to the place where Woodkimkalajoss said we would find the meech colony. Maybe when we talk to Regidor and Gilda, they can explain what happened.” He helped Kale to her feet, hugged her, and then patted her very round belly. “Are you uncomfortable when you ride?”

“No, not very.”

He kissed her forehead. “Then I’m afraid it’s time to go once more.”

On the morning of the fifth day, they passed over a place where someone had camped the night before. At midday, they caught up with their meech friends. In the middle of a circle of slain wild boars, Regidor sat on the ground. He cradled Gilda in his arms. Neither looked up as Greer and Celisse landed.

Kale dropped off her dragon’s side and ran to the couple.

“Is she hurt?”

Regidor nodded. “Badly.”

He was covered with blood. His sword lay on the ground beside him. The mangled flesh on Gilda’s hand and arm looked as though one of the big beasts had tried to drag her off.

Kale took off her cape, and Gymn scrambled out, leaping the short distance to land on Gilda. He crawled over her, finding the worst of the wounds and determining which should be treated first.

As Kale spread out her cape and began assembling the medicines and bandages they would need from the hollows, she remembered how much the meech lady disliked the minor dragons.

It’s a good thing for you, Gilda, that Gymn doesn’t care whether you like him or not. He’ll still do his best to save your life.

Gymn’s shrill call alerted them to a gash in Gilda’s side, hidden by her wing. Regidor lifted the wing tenderly and revealed a ragged opening probably made by a boar tusk.

Kale spotted something white amid the red.
Is that her rib?
Kale closed her eyes.
Oh, Wulder, help. Please help us help Gilda.

         
40
         

E
NEMIES
A
LL
A
ROUND

Bardon inspected the area, making sure none of the boars would rise up again. Most were dead. He quickly dispatched those who were mortally wounded and suffering. Out of the corner of his eye, he also kept watch over those working to save Gilda’s life.

Kale toiled over the open wound, swabbing out the blood and applying a medicine that would keep infection at bay. Gymn scrambled the length of Gilda’s body, pausing to heal bruises and scratches. When Kale had the area on Gilda’s side cleaned and medicated, he came back to help her.

Bardon gave orders to the kimens and dragons as if they were a military party under his command. They responded well, and he gave them a grim smile. “Thank you, my friends.”

Once they began the duties he’d assigned, Bardon returned to Kale to offer his help. Gymn, Regidor, and his wife had everything under control. He wouldn’t hinder Kale’s concentration but stood by watching and ready to do anything they might need of him.

Regidor still held Gilda, and Bardon assumed he was doing something to keep her asleep. Kale stitched the flesh together under Gymn’s watchful eye. The healing dragon knew how the edges should meet on the inside muscle as well as the outer skin. When they were finished and had washed the area once more, Kale covered it with swaths of white cloth.

She pushed back from her patient. “Regidor, will you take my position in the healing circle with Gymn? I’ve got to clean up.”

Regidor barely glanced at her red-stained hands. Blood blotched the front of Kale’s dress, but the meech dragon’s eyes studied every breath his wife took. His own clothes reflected the savage fight that had played out on this patch of ground. But Kale didn’t bother to suggest he clean up. His whole being was engrossed in the recovery of his wife.

Bardon walked beside Kale, carrying the moonbeam cape.

“Were you able to find out what happened here?” she asked.

“Yes, Regidor mindspoke to me while we watched you and Gymn work. He said that he and Gilda have been attacked by wild animals ever since they entered the plains area. They haven’t encountered any of the high races. It’s as if the countryside has been taken over by savage beasts. Creatures that don’t usually run in packs have congregated. Regidor and Gilda have seen fields of slaughtered animals, and the only explanation is these natural loners ganged together but then turned on one another. Of course, that’s merely a theory.”

He winked at her, but she couldn’t muster a smile.

They reached a pool of water bubbling up from the ground. A stream ran off from that point toward the west. Kale knelt beside the sparkling, churning brook. She scrubbed her hands.

“The water’s warm,” she said, surprise evident in her voice.

“Must be a hot spring.”

Kale continued to rub her hands long after any trace of red remained. “I don’t understand why Regidor and Gilda didn’t just fly away each time they were attacked. And I don’t understand why we haven’t been plagued with similar attacks.”

“The first one, I can answer,” said Bardon. “As meech dragons, Regidor and Gilda cannot fly great distances, and, therefore, stop often. If they’ve been driven back into the air each time they landed, then they were becoming exhausted.”

Kale stood, shook water from her hands, and looked down at her dress. “I can’t wear this ever again. I’m going to start all over.”

Bardon held up the cape. Kale reached into a hollow and pulled out a small cloth bag. She loosened the drawstring and poured dozens of seeds into the palm of her hand. Turning in a circle, she scattered them on the ground. The seeds fell on both banks of the stream. Kale kicked off her shoes and stepped into the water.

Bardon hopped out of the ring of seeds just as the first shoots shot up from the fertile dirt. He thrust the cape into her hands. In one minute, a hedge grew so that she had a leafy bower of complete privacy.

“What’s she doing?” asked Toopka, making Bardon jump.

He hadn’t heard the youngsters’ approach. He chastised himself and gave a quick commander’s inspection of the area. No enemies were in sight.

Regidor still tended Gilda. Two of the kimens had joined the healing circle. The other kimens stood guard. Celisse and Greer loitered close by, having finished their chore. The minor dragons, except Gymn, perched on the riding dragons’ backs. The doneel girl stood with her tumanhofer friend next to Bardon.

Bardon answered gruffly. “Changing clothes and probably having a good wash.”

“In there?” Toopka jumped closer and tried to peek through the leaves. “Why?”

Bardon grabbed her and pulled her back. “So she won’t have any spectators.”

Sittiponder giggled. “I’m not looking. Kale doesn’t have to worry about me.”

“Why does she have to go in there?” asked Toopka. “Why doesn’t she just make the clothes over into something she wants to wear? Why isn’t she doing it like she usually does?”

“You’re asking too many questions,” said Sittiponder.

“Her clothes are bloody,” explained Bardon, although he agreed with the young tumanhofer’s opinion. “And she wants to start with a fresh set.”

“Is Gilda going to live? Are we still going to look for the meech colony? Why are the animals so ferocious?”

“I believe Gilda will live. Yes, we will still look for the meech colony. And I don’t know why the animals are behaving in a manner not in keeping with their normal habits.”

“Oh, my!” Kale exclaimed.

Bardon turned back to where his wife hid. “What is it?”

“The egg.”

Bardon let go of Toopka and put his fists on his hips. “What egg?”

“The one I found outside of Arreach, after the earthquake.”

Toopka stood on tiptoe as if she could see over the thick bushes. “You found it? Where’s it been? How come you lost it?”

“I didn’t really lose it,” Kale called. “I just forgot I had it. I wrapped the egg in a scarf and tied it around my waist.”

“Is it going to hatch?” Toopka held her breath while waiting for the answer.

“I would think,” said Bardon, staring down at Toopka, “that by this time, you would take an egg-hatching in stride. How many have you seen born?”

Toopka grinned. “Hundreds. But they’re all special. Aren’t they, Kale?”

“What?” Kale’s voice sounded muffled.

“Aren’t all eggs special?” Toopka countered by yelling.

“Yes.” Kale sounded more normal.

Bardon gently flipped one of Toopka’s ears with his fingertip. “Scrambled eggs aren’t special.”

“Oh, yum!” Toopka scowled. “Why’d you have to say that? Taylaminkadot’s scrambled eggs are special.”

Sittiponder groaned. “I agree, and we’re hungry. In fact, that’s why we came to find you in the first place.”

Toopka’s head bobbed. “We want to roast a boar.”

“Wild boar cooked in a pit.” Sittiponder licked his lips.

The walls of Kale’s makeshift dressing room crackled and separated, allowing her to step through. She wore a brown tunic with tan leggings. “We’re not staying here long enough for that.”

“Why?” Toopka’s tone approached a whine. “We can’t go anywhere. Gilda would die if we took her flying on the back of Celisse.”

“We are not staying here,” Kale repeated more firmly.

“Why?”

“I understand,” said Sittiponder.

Toopka wheeled around. She wagged a finger an inch in front of his face. “Don’t you side with them.”

“It’s not siding, Toopka. I figured out why Kale doesn’t want to stay. It smells like a battlefield. Think about it. How could we enjoy delicious roast pork when all we can smell is spilt blood?”

Toopka frowned, sniffed the air, then twisted her frown into a grimace of disgust. “Yuck.”

Bardon contorted his face in sympathy. When his mind had been occupied, the smell had been an underlying irritant. Now that he had fully noticed it, he couldn’t pretend the odor didn’t exist.

“Where are we going to go?” asked Toopka. The whine had taken precedence in her voice. “I sure wish there was a castle or something nearby. Someplace with big beds and lots of food.”

Bardon rubbed the silky fur on her head between her soft button ears. “We’ll go by foot and find someplace safe and pleasant. Go tell the kimens.”

The children ran ahead.

He took Kale’s hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “I assume since you brought up the subject of leaving this place that you and Regidor will be able to figure out some way to transport Gilda.”

“Yes. We discussed it while I washed my hands.”

“Mindspeaking comes in handy.” Bardon surveyed the area once more, looking for any sign of danger. “Do you detect any hostile creatures close by, Kale?”

“No, there’s nothing besides rodents and birds. Nothing vicious.”

They walked in silence.

“Bardon?”

“Yes?”

“You told Celisse and Greer to take care of the boars’ bodies, right?”

“I did.”

“Did you tell them to leave one for us?”

“I asked the kimens to carve some meat for our dinner. Seezle said that was a chore kimens did not relish.”

“In other words, Seezle said no?”

“Right.” Bardon patted her hand. “There’s one boar left. I did ask Greer to leave us one. I’ll take care of the meat. Will you get Gilda ready to move?”

“We will.”

When they walked up to where Regidor still held his wife, tears sprang to Bardon’s eyes. He identified with his friend and pictured himself sitting on the ground with Kale’s head and shoulder in his lap. A few hard blinks batted the moisture away.

Bardon tapped Regidor on his shoulder, bringing the meech out of his participation in the circle of healing.

“We’re going to move to a place more easily defended. Are you ready?”

Regidor nodded. “Kale and I will make Gilda comfortable to travel.”

Regidor slipped out from under Gilda. Kale helped him straighten her legs and tuck her arms close to her sides. Then they swaddled her with what looked to Bardon like thick spider webbing. He bent down to touch it, reassuring himself that the loosely woven material was not sticky.

Next, Regidor formed a wooden slab under Gilda with handles at each end. Kale helped pad it. She and Regidor pulled batting from their hollows, shaped it into a long, covered pallet with their hands, and then, using wizardry, shifted the cushion under the patient’s prone form. Straps wrapped over Gilda to keep her on the board.

Regidor stood. “We’re ready.”

He and Bardon lifted the ends of Gilda’s stretcher.

Bardon nodded to the small dragon perched on his shoulder. “Mikkai scouted the area and found a hill with large boulders at the top. We should be able to defend that position.”

“Did he report any wild animals?”

“Scores of them have moved closer, all prowling in mobs of a dozen or less.”

Toopka whimpered and took Sittiponder’s hand.

Bardon frowned at them. “You two have got to quit sneaking up on the adults. Eavesdropping is not polite.”

Toopka stuck out her lower lip. “I think those wild animals aren’t polite either. That scares me.”

Kale gathered the child into her arms. “You can sneak up on us because no one thinks you’re dangerous. Don’t worry. If a wild animal comes close, the dragons, the kimens, everyone will set off an alarm.”

“I’d like to be just a little dangerous. Just enough to scare some of those beasts.”

Kale lifted Toopka. Bardon watched her shift the small child, and through the bond, he knew Kale felt the inconvenient bulge of her belly interfere with her movements. She hugged the doneel, then looked at her with concern.

“You’re smaller. You weigh less. Do you feel all right?”

Toopka rested her head on Kale’s shoulder. “Am I in trouble for being smaller?”

“No.”

“Then I feel all right.” Her eyes closed, and her breathing became slow and regular.

Bardon looked from Kale’s worried eyes to Regidor.

Regidor pressed his lips into a grim line. He squinted at the horizon. “I suggest we move. Our problems will not be solved here.”

Directed by Mikkai, they began the march. Bardon hoped the short trek would bring them to safer ground. A dozen large scavenger birds circled above. Attracted by blood on the ground, or attracted to wanderers in a lonely land?